


oh we are Gods; the World wore us down

by JollytheSad



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, season 3 never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 09:19:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7429043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JollytheSad/pseuds/JollytheSad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How neither of them is exactly soft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	oh we are Gods; the World wore us down

**Author's Note:**

> i read my own fic and got feelings.

The thing is, Raven isn’t soft. 

He finds himself counting her ribs and the bumps of her vertebrae as he runs his hands over her body. He watches the hard set of her jaw, her sharp eyes. There’s something harsh about her; all edges and no curves. Her brilliance often slaps him in the face. 

The thing is, Bellamy isn’t soft either.

Sometimes, she catches his hands and forces him to stay still while she rubs a healing salve all over the cut, bruised skin that’s been pierced through with a needle so many times he’s lost the count. He catches her staring and wonders how his face look now. If he looks any older. He certainly feels at least a century old. 

 

“How long do you think we’ll live?” she sometimes asks in the dead of a night, lying underneath the stars. 

“Long enough,” he says as she cuddles into him for warmth. “Long enough.” 

 

They do. Long enough to create a little softness of their own. 

Her name is Aurora, partly after his mother, partly because she was a Roman goddess and partly because Raven mentions the word means “sunrise” in Spanish and that she prefers that to sunset. Dark eyed, dark haired, with freckles scattered across tiny shoulders she seems to resemble them both. Bellamy sometimes wishes Octavia was there to see her. 

 

“Do you think O has any kids?” he asks one day as Raven is braiding Aurora's hair. 

“By now? At least three,” she grins. 

He smiles and dips his head. “Of course.”


End file.
